


Dear Mr. Hawkeye

by Psmith73



Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crack, Ensemble Cast, Epistolary, Humor, M/M, Parody, Pastiche, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psmith73/pseuds/Psmith73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Glenn is a struggling student neck-deep in debts. One day while trying to earn some money he gets himself in serious trouble. An anonymous benefactor offers him help in return for weekly emails describing events of his life. Jean Webster's "Daddy-long-legs"/TWD fusion. COMPLETE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Potential spoilers from seasons 1- 4 of TWD and Jean Webster's "Daddy-Long-Legs". Rated for themes and language. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own AMC's "The Walking Dead", Jean Webster's "Daddy-Long-Legs" or Marvel's comics. All the highs of this story belong to Jean Webster and all the lows are mine.
> 
> Special thanks to my lovely BETAs - doctorkaitlyn and undeadstoryteller - they are the best.

_E-mails of Glenn Rhee to Mr. Hawkeye Smith_

* * *

Dear Kind-and-Generous-yet-Slightly-Creepy-Benefactor,

It seems weird to be writing e-mails to somebody that I don't know. Moreover, it seems wrong of me to even consider the thought of accepting your generous offer.  I mean, I don't have the faintest idea of who you are or even who you might be.

But, first thing first: thank you very much for bailing me out of jail the other day! Guess I have to justify myself. You already know that I got arrested for participation in street racing. Though I realize that such behavior is inexcusable (especially in the eyes of my conservative parents), I had no other choice. I'm neck deep in debts and will get expelled if I don't pay my college fees. And I have no one to seek help from since I'm not on speaking terms with my above mentioned conservative parents. The prize money for winning that race could have covered a huge part of my debts, if I wasn't stupid enough to get caught by the cops.

The lawyer you hired told me about the conditions of your offer. It's very kind and generous of you to bail me out of jail anonymously and it’s even kinder for you to suggest that you will pay off my school loans in return for only weekly e-mails to you.

I have been thinking about you and your offer a great deal this whole week; having somebody take an interest in me, a simple pizza delivery boy, is kind of strange, if not to say a bit creepy. That is, I really have nothing to give you in return for your kindness, save my sincere and eternal gratitude.  Which forces me to ask: what consequences might I have to face if I accept your offer? What secret agenda might you have? Maybe you’re a rich estranged uncle of mine that I never knew I had. At least it's better than thinking that you might turn out to be some gangster who will eventually want to collect my organs in return for your favor, or that I’ve been chosen to be your project in some scientific research (thesis in sociology?). I can’t help but wonder what is worse – death at the hands of a gangster, or a life of humiliation after that presumed work of yours is published (then again, who reads those?). I'd prefer to settle for the uncle theory. I've always been a glass-half-full kind of guy after all. Though I must admit that it is one very tempting proposition and it's not like I have a lot of other options to consider. Guess, I'll have to take my chances and all the risks that may come with it.

I have to confess that I did try to bribe your lawyer to get more information about you, though it's an impossible task to accomplish when all you’ve got is a hole in your pocket. Pathetic. The lawyer had a good laugh at my expense and warned me not to mess with you. Because, to quote him: "Mr. Smith has a keen eye and never misses his aim with that crossbow of his.” Interesting! The oblivious bastard gave me one significant clue about you. I wonder how many people in Georgia own crossbows? Do you have to register one like you do with guns?

There was also another, I should say, rather disturbing detail he gave me. For some unexplainable reason the man was under impression that I was a refugee from China. Seriously?! Judging from his speech I've learned that you know a lot about me, yet you've somehow managed to miss the fact that I am  **a Korean-descent-third-generation-American**  from Michigan! It is kind of racist to consider all Asians to be Chinese, don't you think? (Alas, there went my "uncle theory"…)

So, concluding everything written above, there are just four things that I know (or think that I know) about you:

  1. You are a man.
  2. You have a crossbow.
  3. You are rich.
  4. You are a bit racist.



The lawyer referred to you as Mr. John Smith. Really? Why not Mr. John Doe or Mr. Nobody? Couldn't you be a little more creative? That name lacks personality. I refuse to call you that. Instead I'll give you another name. Let's think.

Suppose I might call you Dear Mr. Racist. Only that's rather insulting to both of us. Maybe Dear Mr. Creepy-Philanthropist or Dear Mr. Crazy-Rich-Guy? But that's kind of insulting to you. So that leaves us with only the crossbow. And since I'm a big fan of Marvel comics (yes, you can roll your eyes here, I'm what you may call a nerdy type of guy), I've decided to call you Dear Mr. Hawkeye. I hope you won't mind. It's rather flattering to you, because Hawkeye is one of the coolest comic book heroes out there. It will be a private pet name, we won't tell anybody. :)

In other words, if you still haven't changed your mind, I do accept your kind offer to pay off my study loan and in exchange, I will write you weekly e-mails describing the trivial events of my boring life (wonder what gain you might get from  _that_ ). This is the first one and there will be more. But it's late now and I'm tired. True to my word, I'll write you later. Good night.

Yours most respectfully, Glenn Rhee.

P.S. Just in case if you are some gangster, please do not take my rant above too close to heart! I had no intention to offend you, by any means!

Again, yours _most respectfully_ , Glenn Rhee.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Mr. Hawkeye,

I hate Atlanta, I hate Georgia and I hate this unbearable heat! Why, why on Earth didn’t I listen to my parents and apply to one of those colleges they chose for me in Michigan? It’s the middle of September and I can hardly sleep at night because it’s so hot. I live in a shitty little apartment on the top floor of an old building (but perhaps you know that already). All the windows are wide open, but it doesn’t provide any of the coolness this place desperately needs; the air is still disgustingly stale. I’m even thinking of going nude for a while – no one visits me anyway. Then again, I don’t want to shock any of the neighbors whose windows face mine. Nope, not in a million years would I wish Merle Dixon to see me without clothes. Nor do I EVER wish to see him naked. God, and now I have _that picture_ in my head! Gross!!! I hate my vivid imagination sometimes.

But now I guess I have to explain who Merle Dixon is. _Unless you already_ _know_ …

Damn it! I’m getting a little paranoid. Ever since I met Michael Coleman, that lawyer of yours, I’ve developed a nagging feeling of being constantly followed and watched. Kind of an uncomfortable sensation, I must say. Reminds me of a guy I used to know – Jim, the mechanic, if I recall it right. He used to rent an apartment in this building, until they put him into some mental asylum. The guy had an unhealthy obsession with conspiracy theories. No wonder his wife divorced him eventually, got full custody of their kids and a restraining order against the poor guy. Guess that was the last straw for him. Wouldn’t want to end up like that!

Anyway, let's get back to the subject at hand or _revenons a nos moutons_ , as the French say (learned this expression in class today). Merle Dixon. The most obnoxious human being I’ve ever met in my life. Where to start? Well, if I make a list of all his “charming” traits of character, this e-mail would be way too long. I’ll just try to outline the most disturbing ones. First of all, there is his shady criminal past. And maybe not even past – wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out that the man cooks meth in his spare time. Don’t have any solid proof but I’m quite sure that he is a drug dealer! On top of all that he is a sexist and a racist – Neo Nazi, a proud member of The Aryan Brotherhood. Wouldn’t want to bump into Merle when he is sober, but when he’s high – that’s when the guy gets really dangerous. Last week that douchebag beat up T-Dog just because of the color of his skin. And yesterday he set a dog on me!

Have no idea where he got that monster, but if it weren’t for that chair in the foyer, I’m not sure whether I’d still have any fingers to type this e-mail to you. In case you work for WSPA, I must assure you that I didn’t harm the devilish creature, just used it as a protection against the beast! I kind of like my limbs the way they are; attached to my body and not serving as dog food. And what happened with the “no pets allowed” policy that our landlord Hershel Greene established earlier this year?

By the way, it seems like Daryl (Merle’s younger brother) doesn’t enjoy the company of the bloodthirsty hound either. Heard them fighting over it that same evening, Daryl was shouting something about _“Lassie” going home_ (wasn’t eavesdropping, the open windows did their job) – couldn’t agree more.

Anyway, the point is – I despise Merle Dixon! The bastard hates everyone, save his brother, and he truly believes that if you are a white supremacist, that fact alone admits you to heaven without any further examination. Merle and I were born to be enemies. Saw him with a hooker the other day. Hope she gives him the clap or something even nastier!

Ok, enough with Merle. Let’s change the subject.

My college life is not very interesting – classes, study – all the same. Because of my part time job, I don’t really have time to get involved in any social activities. But sometimes I do get out and have fun. Like today – just returned from my friend’s birthday party. Miguel is a great guy – lends me cars for street racing from time to time. We split the prize money when I win. His elder brother Guillermo is the leader of a street gang, they steal cars mostly (in case you’re interested, the one I was driving was clean). But they do have noble intentions. Half of their _income_ goes for charity and I know for fact that they support one of Atlanta’s nursing homes. Though Guillermo threatened to chop me up and feed my body parts to his Chihuahuas if I ever tell that to any soul alive. (Don’t you see a strange pattern here? Seems like people enjoy threatening me with their pets!) So let’s pretend that I never mentioned any of this to you.

Oh, that reminds me of the reason why Merle set that dog on me in the first place. And it is totally ridiculous! I think those drugs severely damaged his brain somehow... Because **that** was his way of warning me to stay away from his baby brother! Well, some _baby_ he is… Hmm, where was I? Oh, yea – Daryl. I can’t say I’m so much as acquainted with the guy. He never makes the slightest effort to be amiable. When I run into him in the hallway, Daryl never answers my greetings. He probably doesn’t even know my name – called me “Short Round” once. Damn my ball cap and backpack!

To his credit, I must admit that, compared to that appalling elder brother of his, Daryl is a true paragon of virtue. And he _is_ friends with T-Dog. That’s the reason why the latter didn’t press charges against Merle for the beatings. Though I think that T secretly dreams of locking up the racist scumbag somewhere far away and then losing the keys on purpose.

Oh! Almost forgot, Daryl has a crossbow! Isn’t that an amusing coincidence? What a surprising twist it might have been. Ha-ha! Pigs would learn to fly in that case. First of all, the man isn’t even aware of my existence and second – he must be anything but rich. Or else he wouldn’t rent an apartment in this shithole. So, Mr. Hawkeye, you can’t possibly be Daryl Dixon.

By the way, I’ve decided to settle for the crazy researcher theory. But please don’t reveal my real name in that work of yours! I’ve only known one scientist in my life, Milton Mammet. He used to call his lab rats by the letters of an alphabet. Wonder if you would name me “Y” or “X.” Hey, that’s an idea! The X-men! I always liked Gambit most and we even share the same first letter. Maybe I should change my name? Like T-Dog did. Though that’s not the best example, I should say. I mean, why on Earth would anyone want to name themselves after a beverage and a pet instead of Theodore Douglas?! Anyway, Gambit it is! Though it is a bit ironic, considering how much I suck at any card game that exists out there. Especially poker. The worst liar in the world!

Ugh, I feel a bit nauseous. Little hint – someone had too much to drink tonight. :(

Yours always, ~~Glenn~~ Gambit.

* * *

 

Dear Hawkeye Smith,

God help me with this dreadful hangover! I have a feeling that my head will explode any moment now. And reading the copy of the e-mail that I sent you last night didn’t help the matter. They say that alcohol does dreadful things to your liver; well apparently, it does even worse things to your brain. I didn’t get past the phrase where I expressed my wish of joining a nudist community. Awkward. No one needs that mental image. Feel free to mark all my e-mails as spam next time! As for me, I’ll be damned if I have another drink in my life ever again.

Much embarrassed confirmed teetotaler, Glenn Rhee.


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Mr. Hawkeye,

I saved a man today! Ok, maybe, _saved_ is a bit of s strong word, but I did help the guy out. And by _out,_ I mean literally. The said man got himself stuck in the elevator. Dumbass! Didn’t he see the sign? “Use this elevator at your own risk and don’t blame us for the consequences?” It’s there for a reason! Why else would we use the stairs all the time? Ok, maybe he doesn’t know about the stairs, because he is new here. But he can read, right?

The guy was lucky that it was my day off. Or else he would have had to wait till the evening, when people come home from work. And even then, he’d have had some trouble since only Hershel and I know how to handle situations like this without damaging anything. Daryl would probably try to break the doors with an ax, like he did last time when Merle got stuck there. You can still see the marks he left on it. Mr. Greene was not pleased, but he refused to fix the stupid thing, explaining that it would cost too much and in that case he’d have to raise the rent. That sounded reasonable – no one wanted to pay extra money.

A former tenant, Jacqui, taught me the trick with the elevator, before she got married and moved to the suburbs to live with her husband, Dr. Edwin Jenner. She was an employee at the Atlanta City Zoning Office. Quite a nice lady I must say.

Anyway, the saved man turned out to be Rick Grimes – the presumed dead husband of Lori from the third floor and her son Carl’s father. They moved in a couple of months ago because Shane Walsh (Rick’s best friend) wanted them to live near him, so he could always provide help, when needed. Rick was serving the country in Afghanistan and went missing after one severe attack by Taliban forces. He was declared dead by mistake. Apparently the Grimes couple had some marital problems before Rick joined the Army (guess it was something really nasty since the man preferred to run away from his wife to a war zone) so it didn’t take much time for Lori to recover from her loss and start dating Shane.

And now I sound like an old gossip… Damn it! Why do I even know all this stuff? _Thanks so much Dale!_ Dale Horvath is my older neighbor – his apartment is placed right under mine. He manages to provide me with all these stories about our tenants whenever I meet him in the hallway. I like Dale – he is the nicest guy I know, but sometimes I think his loneliness has made him overly obsessed with other people’s lives. I don’t even regret not having cable TV, because one little talk with the old man can easily be compared to watching three hours of some soap opera with a very twisted plot. Worst part is – I don’t need this sort of information at all, because I’m the worst liar in the world! Did I mention it? Well, now you know. For future reference – if we ever meet, never tell me your secrets! If I didn't have you to tell things to, I'd burst. Maybe it’s the same with Dale?

You know, at first I was a bit skeptical about this whole one sided relationship we are having. Of course, your anonymity was the main condition of our deal, but I was so curious about your true identity that I even considered doing some computer hacking in order to find out something more about you. Then again, as they say, a wise person never looks a gift horse in the mouth, so I dropped the idea. That is, I want to assure you, Mr. Hawkeye, that I do appreciate you paying my study loan and not even asking anything in return. Well, apart from these silly little letters from me…

In fact, it is a somewhat interesting experiment for me too. It’s kind of nice to have someone to vent my thoughts and feelings to and the best part is that no one would judge me (you can of course, but I will never know that). 

In other related news that may interest you – Morales’ family from the sixth floor are moving to Birmingham. They are selling some of their stuff. Got myself a nice bookshelf and a head lamp at a very low price from them. I never cared to decorate my place, nor could I ever afford such luxury, for that matter. But something tells me that I also really need to buy myself curtains. The thicker, the better! And by “something” I mean Daryl-Freaking-Dixon!

Did I mention that our windows face each other? Well, guess what! A few days ago I noticed him smoking on the balcony – nothing unusual here, and he was staring in the direction of my apartment – again nothing illegal; but _the way_ he was staring made me rather uncomfortable – in other words I was scared to death. It was one very hard and uneasy stare! The way predators look at their poor pray before they eat them. And it’s not just my wild imagination because the same thing happened again, and again! Does Daryl have a grudge against me? One I don’t know of? Maybe I’ve somehow offended him? Should I buy the man a fruit basket with an “I’m-sorry-for-whatever-I-may-have-done-it-won’t-happen-again-please-don’t-kill-me-in-my-sleep” note? And I thought Merle was crazy!

Well, apart from that creepy serial killer’s attitude towards me, Daryl is a decent man, I guess. He likes children – Carl Grimes and Sophia Peletier adore him. And I think Sophia’s mom – Carol from the fifth floor, secretly holds the torch for the guy. Can’t blame her – he is a rather attractive man and you should see those arms! I envy his remarkable biceps! Maybe I should start working out?

That reminds me – I should make a shopping list. Things to buy:

  1. Curtains or blinds (ask if they have bullet/arrow proof ones!);
  2. Dumbbells;
  3. A new ball cap.



Because someone stole my old one! Yea, we have a thief among our tenants, it appears. One that collects red tattered caps. Because I don’t see any other motive for anyone to steal that hat. I left it with my backpack in the hallway, when I went to help Rick get out of that elevator. I was absent for like ten seconds but when I returned, only the backpack was there and there was no sign of my cap anywhere near! It was my favorite one from my high school days. Used to play for my hometown’s junior league baseball team. I kept the cap and the baseball bat as nostalgic reminders. Well, at least I still have the bat to protect myself with, in case someone wants to break into my apartment and rob me again.

Actually, I would’ve suspected Merle or Carl. But Merle is out of town (annual gala of KKK members?) and even if he wasn’t, he would’ve taken the backpack instead of the hat. As for Carl, the boy has developed some kleptomaniac tendencies lately. Lori is at her wits end because she was summoned by his principal a couple of times earlier this year. As my professor of psychology Dr. Alice Stevens would say, it’s the boy’s way of attracting his mother’s attention. Then again, Carl has a solid alibi – he had been at school when the crime was committed. And he likes me, why would he do that in the first place? So the mystery remains unsolved…

Oh, look at the time! Didn’t notice how late it is. And I have a very difficult test in History tomorrow. Second Punic war. Got to get back to my textbook and find out who won – Hannibal or the Romans. Will write to you next week!

Your diligent student, Glenn Rhee.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to dedicate this chapter to bgn from FFnet, who's amazing D/G stories inspired all my fics. If you haven't read "Unexpected", "Time Tracks", "Undercover", "Trekking Dead" or "Possibilities", do check them out, they are fantastic :)

Dear Mr. Hawkeye,

I’m dreadfully sick. I think it is either tonsillitis or the flu or maybe something even worse. And it’s all Miguel’s fault! Well, at least indirectly. The other day he invited me and another guy from college, Wayne Dunlap, to his grandmother’s anniversary. She lives in a nursing home; last summer Wayne and I worked there as volunteers. The old lady grew on us – she was very kind and sweet so we decided to attend the birthday party.

In hindsight, I realize that I should’ve declined the invitation as politely as possible. Because it turned out to be a rather depressing evening – one of the nursing home’s residents died the night before and another had a severe asthma attack during the party. And on top of all, that they served us menudo – which is apparently a traditional Mexican soup made with beef stomach (aka disgusting tasting guts). Normally I like Mexican food but this was absolutely _not my cup of tea_ , so to speak. Worst part was that I couldn’t offend Miguel’s abuela by refusing to eat it. She was already upset by the previous events. The evening dragged on and on and I couldn’t just leave because it would’ve been rude; really felt like a hostage at one moment. For a wild second the thought of jumping out of the open window looked disturbingly tempting. On the bright side – Wayne seemed to enjoy himself. He even liked the soup! As for me, I’m seriously considering a vegan lifestyle now. If presented with the choice – I would prefer raw carrots and cucumbers to some guts anytime.

And know what else? Miguel told me that Guillermo’s gang took apart the red Dodge Challenger, the one which helped me win one of my street races. I loved that car and those vultures stripped it clean! :(

Oh, and on the way back from the nursing home I got caught in the heavy rain. Of course I forgot to take an umbrella with me. Guess who got drenched to the bone and didn’t have a dry stitch on when that moron got home? So there you go – a high temperature and every other symptom of a bad cold as a result. Did you ever hear of such a discouraging series of events?

In other related news that has had our apartment complex buzzing for several days now – Carol Peletier’s ex-husband got full custody on their daughter Sophia. He is moving to another state and taking the little girl with him. What a bastard! The man is doing that solely to get revenge on Carol for divorcing him. I saw Ed Peletier once when he came to see Sophia and didn’t like him a bit. Dale told me that Ed used to abuse his wife on a daily basis before she finally got fed up with him and had the courage to file for a divorce. The scumbag didn’t give her a single cent when they separated. That’s how Carol came to live here. Poor woman is devastated. What stupid court would support that monster of a man and trust him with a child?!

All the tenants of our apartment complex are outraged by the whole situation – Daryl most of all! I think the man would’ve gladly smashed Ed’s head in with something heavy if he had a chance. And I don’t blame him. By the way, Dale is convinced that the younger Dixon and Carol are dating. As a matter of fact they do seem to be pretty close lately…

Speaking of Daryl, he _is_ acting strange. The man has developed a sudden love for sleeveless shirts. Nothing unusual of course, but it’s the **middle of October** , for God’s sakes! And he is actually wearing all those sleeveless shirts with a _vest_. What kind of logic is that?! I’m worried for him. Moreover, it’s a bit distracting too. Especially when Daryl started to perform some of those fancy yoga exercises on the balcony. Yet another of his new habits. It looks like the man quit smoking and has taken to supporting a healthy lifestyle. I think it creeps the hell out of Merle. Heard them arguing about the “Zen bullshit”, to quote the elder Dixon.

And for the first time in my life, I kind of agree with the douchebag. I can’t concentrate on my homework because of Daryl and his damn yoga (yea, I still didn’t get those much needed curtains). Yesterday he noticed my staring and waved at me – that was unexpected, to say the least. I felt so awkward that I actually wished for the ground to open up and swallow me at that very moment. It’s embarrassing to admit but I often find myself drooling by the window instead of paying attention to my French grammar textbook. Does it make me gay? I’m starting to question my sexuality lately.

Maybe I should test this theory with some hot girl? Someone like Amy Harrison – the younger sister of Andrea Harrison from the sixth floor. Should’ve asked her out when I had a chance. Amy is a real beauty with all that silky blond hair and impeccable skin... no wonder the girl quit college and moved to the West coast, I think she wants to become an actress or something. Andrea was furious and upset by her sister’s decision. Dale is trying his best to comfort her. I suspect that the old man has a weak spot for Andrea. Sadly she doesn’t seem to appreciate it.

By the way, remember our new tenant, Rick Grimes – the one that stuck in the elevator? Well, he turned out to be quite a nice fellow after all. And the man is good at connecting with people – even Dale and Mr. Greene seem to respect him. Of course, not everyone was glad to see him. Merle, for instance, had a bit of a brawl with Rick the other day. Something involving choke holds that Daryl considered being illegal. And then there is Shane, who obviously wasn’t happy about his best friend’s return from the dead (according to Dale). I myself wouldn’t have guessed that on my own because if Walsh really is upset by anything, he puts on a very convincing brave face.

Rick is eager to get back to his old work as a police officer. Lori strongly disapproves of that. I guess his work was one of the main issues they had before he joined the Army. And it looks like Grimes hasn’t yet adjusted to the normal civilian lifestyle. He told me that he misses his comrades-in-arms, especially some guy by the name Morgan Jones. Rick has daily phone-talks with him. I’m beginning to suspect that he misses that Morgan dude more than he ever missed Lori during his service. Rick is actually trying to convince his friend to leave the suburbs and move to Atlanta with his son Duane and wife Jenny.

Ok, enough with the vulgar gossip. Not feeling well and I should read some Homer before my bedtime. Not the Simpsons, but the blind guy from ancient Greece. Quite amusing stuff once you get used to the hexameter verse.

You know, maybe it’s the flu or the rain outside, but I kind of feel homesick right now. Miss my family and Michigan. :(

Yours, terribly lonely, miserable and sore-throaty, Glenn Rhee


	5. Chapter 5

Dearest Mr. Hawkeye,

It’s been almost two and a half weeks since I wrote to you last time. I’m terribly sorry for violating our agreement like that, but I had a huge pile of bills to pay and couldn’t afford internet for a while. It’s all settled now, next time I’ll try being more accurate with both my emails to you as well as with my budget allocation.

I know that you wish to remain anonymous and will never answer me back, but I have a very important question to ask: ARE YOU BALD?

I had a dream about you the other night and you looked just like Fester Adams in it. Now I can’t get that image of you out of my head. Repondez, s'il vous plait! You don’t even have to answer this yourself; just let that lawyer of yours, Michael Coleman, send me a note. He can just state: _Mr. Smith is quite bald_ , or _Mr. Smith is not bald_ , or _Mr. Smith has a bush of hair on his_ _head_.

By the way, I fell down the stairs a couple of days ago. But don’t you worry; nothing serious – just couple of broken ribs and some bruises. You ought to see my inner thigh! It's blue and mahogany with little streaks of orange. My health insurance expired a long time ago so I didn’t go to the doctor. Daryl gave me some strange pills to ease the pain. Great stuff, nothing hurts now and I feel a bit _lightheaded_ , if you know what I mean. ;) Guess he got those from Merle’s drug stash. Not that I mind. Daryl is a real human being – not a Dixon at all.

As for my unlucky fall, I think that someone pushed me from behind, although I don’t remember anything clearly – must have hit my head pretty hard after all. Maggie Greene (our landlord’s eldest daughter) found me lying unconscious at the end of the staircase. She and Rick helped me get back to my apartment. After that, Rick went all straight into police officer mode and asked me a couple of questions, but unfortunately I couldn’t help him much.

Dale is very disturbed by this accident. He is convinced that someone did it on purpose. Well, if someone in fact did it, than it was _definitely_ on purpose. No doubts about that. I would’ve suspected Merle Dixon, but the man is no longer with us. Hooray!

No, he is not dead, as you might have assumed. The guy came to the conclusion that the atmosphere of this apartment complex had become inimical to the maintenance of friendly relations between him and other tenants. In other words, according to Daryl, he got fed up with _the_ _sorry pricks_ around here and moved out. To be fair, the elder Dixon had his reasons for that. The man almost lost his right hand because of us. As you know, I’m not the biggest fan of Merle but even I feel a bit sorry for him.

I guess you’re eager to know how it all happened. Well, remember I’d mentioned our elevator that never worked properly? You may surely blame that monster for everything. Perhaps it also had a grudge against Merle. A vindictive machine, like in those lame horror movies. Anyway, let’s get back to the part about Merle losing his hand.

A couple of weeks ago, Merle wanted to use the elevator, but it had been already overloaded – Rick, T-Dog and Andrea got there first. Although I don’t understand why people take the risk, the thing is not safe – I always prefer the stairs. Anyway, someone (Andrea insisted it was T-Dog) pushed the button to close the doors in front of him. Merle tried to stop them by slipping his hand in between the shutting doors, but it wasn’t the brightest idea at all, as it turned out, because the doors didn’t open. You’d think that was bad enough. Well, there's worse to come. The elevator started to move up!

I happened to be in the lobby at the time and witnessed the whole thing; it wasn’t pretty. At one precise moment, I actually was on the verge of either fainting or puking my guts out. Yet, I did try to help the unfortunate racist retrieve his hand back. The limb in question was severely damaged but, hey, at least it wasn’t completely cut off. And you know what was most annoying? Merle accused me of his injuries. What kind of logic is that?! I wasn’t even in that stupid elevator! Hell is paved with good intentions, as they say…

Anyway, I called the ambulance and that ungrateful asshole was rushed to the hospital where they managed to save his hand. Merle didn’t stay there long though, he took off without an official discharge from his doctor. Daryl regards that as another display of his brother’s toughness. I’d say that’s a vivid display of his _dumbness_. Then again, who am I to judge? :-/

Oh, I forgot to tell you the main news of the week – it looks like I and Daryl are becoming friends. He checked on me after my accident and, as I’d already mentioned above, offered me some medicine. That was really nice and neighborly of him! He also informed me that Merle moved out. Have no idea why he felt like he had to tell me about that. I certainly won’t miss the guy. Good riddance.

Actually, I heard them fighting right before Daryl’s visit to my place. Perhaps they were arguing about whose turn it was to make the squirrel stew. Hunting is their hobby, so they indulge themselves with such culinary extravaganza from time to time. It’s not like I’m spying on them or anything; I know this because of the disgusting smell from their kitchen. I had to air out my apartment for hours after that.

Be that as it may, whatever the reason for Merle’s decision to move away was, I’m glad. I think that he was a bad influence on Daryl, although the latter seems to miss him, which is sort of sad. :( Then again, according to Dale, Daryl might soon change his status of a lonely bachelor. The old man saw him buying flowers for Carol. By the way, she appealed against the court decision concerning the custody over her daughter. We all hope Carol wins this time.

I don’t know why but that thought disturbs me a little. Not the part about Sophia, but the one about Daryl and Carol. I’m a horrid person. I should be happy for both of them. Probably it’s just my envy talking, haven’t got laid for a while now. I guess it’s time to get back into the dating business again. Maybe I should try one of those online dating sites? Then again, no one knows what sort of pervert one might find there. Better rule out that option, just to be on the safe side.

Let’s hope I’ll meet someone at the Marvel Universe Convention that takes place in Atlanta this month. Oh, that reminds me, I need to buy a trench coat - want to cosplay Gambit. Do you wish to join me? We could make great impersonations of Hawkeye and Gambit together! Wouldn’t that be amazing? :)

Damn it. The drugs are wearing out. My chest is hurting again, better go take some more pills and then lie down, try to get some sleep.

Yours, about to get high, Gambit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My love and gratitude to the lovely BETAs of this chapter - Nangke, doctorkaitlyn and undeadstoryteller - they are the best. Nangke also made an amazingly gorgeous Fanart for this story. Please, check out those beautiful drawings at the end of this chapter! :) 
> 
> And special thanks to abbylabby for wonderful reviews and continuing support of this story. <3

Dearest Mr. Hawkeye,

I guess it’s not the best way to start a letter, but I have some awful news to tell you.

Remember, in one of my previous emails to you, I’d mentioned Jacqui, a lady who used to live in this apartment complex? Well, I’ve just come from her funeral. Turns out, her husband – Dr. Edwin Jenner, was an active member in some religious cult. They say he joined it after the tragic death of his first wife. Kind of strange, considering that he seemed like a rational man and devoted his life to science… Somehow, he convinced Jacqui to become a cult follower as well. They committed suicide together three days ago. Apparently it was poison gas that killed them.

I’m a bit shaken by this, because I liked Jacqui. She was always kind to me… to all of us here, as a matter of fact. I think T-Dog is depressed too. He used to date Jacqui before she met Jenner. Most of the tenants who knew her attended the memorial service. It was sad. She shouldn’t have died like that. Andrea said that since there is nothing we can do to change what happened, it’s not our place to judge the dead. But Dale disagreed, he said that the suicide was selfish of her and caused other people needless pain. I’m inclined to side with the old man, although I blame the cult founder obviously. Philip Blake, if I got the name right.

The bodies were cremated. To tell the truth, I don’t understand that. Of course, I realize that cremation is a normal practice, but I’m not quite comfortable with it. You know, that way, it feels like they were just gone. Erased. Like they never existed.

In fact, I had a spirited debate on the subject with Daryl. I might have overreacted a little. I shouldn’t have snapped at him. I need to apologize later. Carol just told me that his mother died in a fire when he was a kid. Didn’t know that. I feel like shit now… 'Judge not that ye be not judged.' Damn me and my big mouth.

The strangest part was that Daryl didn’t say anything back to me. I mean, he’s not the most restrained person when he gets mad at somebody. For example, when Daryl was informed about Merle being rushed to the hospital after the elevator incident, he tossed a bag full of groceries at Rick in a fit of rage. Luckily, Rick was quick enough to dodge the blow; he could’ve gotten a concussion, had it hit him in the head. :S

Anyway, my point is that Daryl’s calm reaction to my shouting was not like him. I admit that I got carried away in the heat of the argument and wouldn’t have blamed him had he punched me in the face for my impertinence. Hope he will accept my apologies.

Actually, now that I think of it, it seems that all of the tenants of this apartment complex are at odds with each other at this point. Andrea is sulking because Dale didn’t approve of her constant worrying about Amy. Daryl and T-Dog have some misunderstandings of their own. And don’t even get me started on Popeye and Bluto’s alpha-male bickering…

Oh, the last line needs some explanation. Daryl once called Lori ‘Olive Oyl’ (I guess it’s because she is skinny and tall). So doesn’t that make Rick and Shane Popeye and Bluto, regarding their confusing love triangle? Just don’t tell that to any of them, if you ever meet them. Unlike Daryl, Shane wouldn’t hesitate before punching me in the face for such impudence :)  

To tell the truth, Shane’s behavior has changed drastically since Rick’s return. Always looks as if he is waiting for a reason to get into a fight with someone. Rick went back to his old work in the police force and got the promotion that Shane was hoping to get for himself. On top of that, there is Lori between them. Shane is dating Andrea currently and Lori doesn’t seem to like it. For some reason, neither does Dale.

The old man is always complaining about Shane nowadays. Dale is convinced that our Bluto is “rotten to the core” and that we better keep our eye on him. I don’t know about that, moreover it’s none of my business in the first place. Although it’s not a secret that Shane is not the most popular person around here. Especially after the incident with Otis.

It happened a few months ago, before Rick’s miraculous resurrection. Otis (one of the previous tenants) had an argument with Lori because he assumed that Carl purposely scratched his new car. When Shane heard of the accusations, he had a private talk with Otis. Afterwards, the latter and his family moved away. Rumor has it that Patricia (Otis’ wife) inherited a little farm in the country and they decided to try their hand at agriculture. But Dale is convinced that the real reason they moved out was because Shane threatened or blackmailed Otis somehow (I, personally, think that the old man has been watching way too many soap operas lately).

Oh, boy. What a horrible gossip I am. Well, as they say – he that touches pitch shall be defiled. Don’t get me wrong – Dale is one of my closest friends, but he seems to know so much about our neighbors’ private lives, it gets creepy sometimes. :) As a matter of fact, that actually got him into trouble with Daryl the other day.

Dale and I had our usual little chat in the foyer when Daryl suddenly stormed in and started shouting at the old man and calling him names. Something about the character from “On Golden Pond” (Dale has quite dubious taste in hats). That was Daryl’s polite way of asking Dale to mind his own business and not pry into other people’s affairs. You should have seen the astonished look on Dale’s face at that moment. As much as I felt for him, it _was_ funny. On the bright side, Dale doesn’t appear to have any hard feelings towards the younger Dixon. To quote him: “ _underneath that rough redneck façade, Daryl is a decent, honest man._ ” I couldn’t agree more.

BTW, I keep getting these mixed signals from Daryl. Although, not sure if I should share this with you or not. It’s kind of really personal. Then again, I need to tell someone, and even though you’ll never answer to me it feels as if… well…

I think that Daryl is FLIRTING with me! Or maybe I’m reading too much into this. Either way, I’m totally confused. Suit yourself – last week I, along with the other neighbors, was invited to Carol’s birthday party. Everything was nice and fun (if you didn’t take the buzzkill Shane into account) and then all of a sudden, Daryl started encouraging me to drink more wine, because _he wanted to see how red my face would get_. Should I consider that as a racial insult or a pick-up line? Have no idea. There is a pretty big chance I’ll get myself an arrow in the ass if I flirt back… Don’t want that - my broken ribs haven’t healed yet from that fall of mine. Besides, he has that thing with Carol going on. And I’m involved with Maggie.

Yea, we kind of hooked up. Sort of. Maggie paid me a visit last night – Hershel sent her to bring me some painkillers. And all of a sudden, she suggested having sex with her. Who could have thought, right? I mean, Maggie is really hot – way out of my league. And she could have anyone, but for some unexplainable reason she chose me. I’m not even her type! Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered and everything but… it was SO unexpected. I was a bit shocked and just went with the situation. Then again who in their right mind could’ve rejected a beautiful girl, if they were in my shoes?

I think it was a onetime thing. Maggie won’t even speak to me now. I’m not sure how I feel about it. On one hand my pride is hurt, but on the other hand I feel kind of relieved. Does that make me a terrible person? :-/

I pretend sometimes that life is just a game (like Portal) which I must play. If I lose, I shrug my shoulders and laugh – also if I win. It’s not that easy to meet the petty hazards of the day lightly and without a fuss, but, it is easier to get through, if you develop that kind of character.  

Okay, that’s all for today, I’m already late for my shift at the pizza place.

Late for work and slightly confused, Glenn Rhee.

P.S. Carol lost her cat. The pet belonged to Sophia, but Ed didn’t let the girl take it with her when he got the custody. If you happen to see a white cat with a black spot on the left ear, please contact somebody from this apartment complex. Carol is devastated and we all want to help her find that darn cat.  

* * *

Amazing fanart by [**Nangke**](http://nangke.tumblr.com/): **[# 1](http://nangke.tumblr.com/post/42482224148/gambit-cosplay-plans-believe-it-or-not-actually)** , **[# 2](http://nangke.tumblr.com/post/42494834506/coloring-coloring-guh-gotta-fix-gambit-glenns)** , **[# 3](http://nangke.tumblr.com/post/42493579538/glenn-cosplaying-as-gambit-daryl-as-hawkeye-from)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that we are now somewhere in the middle of this story and I intend to do another 6 or more chapters. But I probably might need to go on a hiatus until April. I want to watch the back half season 3 of TWD and decide whether to include some of those events to this fic or not.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my love and gratitude to the lovely BETAs doctorkaitlyn and undeadstoryteller. And shout-out to Nangke for her valid advice and suggestions.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and supporting this little fic! It really means a lot to me.
> 
> I'm so sorry it's taking me so much time to update but I assure all my readers that this fic will be completed. It's not abandoned in any case! Most likely this fic will have 12 or 13 chapters in total. Again, thank you for your patience! :)

Dearest Mr. Hawkeye,

You’d never believe what I have to say to you! A little hint: _Swee'Pea_ and _cockroaches_. Yea, I know, lame of me, I’ve never been good at this. In other words - Lori is pregnant and Mr. Greene is a hoarder! Who could’ve thought, right? 0_o I mean there is nothing surprising about the first part of the news, since Lori is a married woman and also has a complicated love life (not gossiping, just stating the obvious) but the second piece of information is a bit astonishing and not in a pleasant way, I must admit.

How do I know all of this? Well, I went to the pharmacy the other day to buy a package of… Never mind. The point is that I ran into Lori there and overheard her conversation with the shop girl about pregnancy tests. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out the rest. It was a very awkward situation, I must admit. I tried to congratulate her but she didn’t seem happy about it. Moreover, Lori asked me not to mention her condition to Rick. And that is the worst part. God knows I’m not the best person at handling secrets. I guess I’ll have to avoid Rick for the next couple of weeks… months… or whatever time Lori needs to tell him the news. Because otherwise I can imagine myself going like: “Hey, Rick! How is your day? Lori is pregnant. Congrats! The weather is great isn’t it?” I wonder how ~~Bluto~~ Shane might react when he finds out about the upcoming addition to the Grimes family.

Why are women so confusing? I mean, take Maggie for instance. One day she is mocking my qualities in bed (you hear that noise? that's the sound of my self-respect going down the drain), stating that everything is over between us and the next day she is jealous of me and Lori. I was just helping the latter with her heavy shopping bags. So *BAM!* we are back to dating again. Or whatever it is… I don’t really know.

Anyway. Maggie wanted to try something new if you know what I mean.  She has this kink for sex in public places. I’m not very comfortable with it, to be honest. Had to turn down a couple of her suggestions, such as the public toilet and the elevator. Because the first one is simply gross and the second one is completely out of the question. Not going anywhere near that monster again, not after _the Merle incident_. Nope. Then she got mad at me for not cooperating and I had to think of some compromise. I had this idea that was quite good… Or so I thought at the time. In order to surprise her, I managed to get the keys from the attic and left Maggie a note to join me there. Well, that was a wrong decision in a nutshell.

Guess who didn’t get laid but instead got a huge headache on top of my already existing problems? Yep, I’m the lucky winner. Turns out Hershel secretly uses the attic as storage. For garbage. Because he is a hoarder. Not kidding! You should’ve seen those piles of junk. :S The smell was disgusting and I’d heard some suspicious squeaking sounds. I bet they were rats! Totally understand now where those cockroaches that invade my apartment did come from. I’ve been trying to get rid of those beasts for months, spent a lot of money on different types of insecticide, but they only thrived on it and grew bigger, bolder. And just think that it was Mr. Greene behind it…

Then again, I feel for the old man. Maggie told me that she had known about it all along when I confronted her with this issue. Hershel developed this disturbing addiction after the tragic deaths of his wife and a stepson a few years, prior to when I moved into this apartment complex. Maggie’s stepbrother Shaun drowned while surfing and his mother could never recover after that; she slowly faded away and died from a heart attack a couple of months later. At first Hershel’s hoarding habit started as a refusal to let go of his wife’s personal belongings, then he began collecting anything that reminded him of late Mrs. Greene and eventually it came down to stocking the attic with any junk he stumbled upon. Maggie and Beth (Hershel’s younger daughter) have consulted a psychiatrist and he told them that it was some sort of coping with grief mechanism and that their father should get professional treatment. They tried to persuade Hershel to get help but so far, he keeps refusing. He won’t acknowledge the problem. And it seems that Maggie is indulging him - she forbade me to tell this to any of the other tenants.   

So how should I resolve the given dilemma? On one hand, I don’t want to betray Maggie’s trust but on the other, I don’t like the situation as a whole. Hershel’s addiction is unhealthy and kind of dangerous to everyone who lives in this building. I mean, the CDC would definitely not approve of this.

Perhaps I’ll tell Dale about it. They seem to be on friendly terms; maybe the old man could persuade Mr. Greene to clear out the attic and join a therapy group or something like that.

And now let’s get to the other news of the week.

Daryl is acting weird. I’ve got the impression that he is avoiding me. What the hell did I do wrong this time? I mean, I did apologize for that incident at the funeral and he did seem to forgive me. Have no idea what’s gotten into him. It seems that he is always mad over something lately. Yesterday, he lashed out at Lori after she asked him if he had seen Rick leaving the building. He yelled back something about ‘not being anybody’s bitch’. What was that all about? I’m glad that Shane wasn’t around at the moment or else it would’ve gotten ugly.

Maggie thinks that Daryl is hostile towards her as well. She’s probably just imagining things. But he’s not speaking to me either. I feel hurt because I don’t even know the reason of his apparent frustration. It’s not fair of him to act like that. I thought we were becoming friends… or maybe it was just my wishful thinking. The man is a walking mystery to me. For example, until last week, I didn’t even know that he possessed a computer, not to speak of wi-fi. I saw him with a box for a brand new laptop the other day, I guess his old one fell apart and he had to buy a new one.

Oh, and what is the freaking deal with that colleague of his, Martinez? Do you know what his first name is? _Caesar_. Yeah, like the salad or the Roman emperor! Depends on which one you prefer. What a ridiculous name. :S I don’t like him. He looks suspicious to me. Moreover he is the follower of the same religious cult that caused Jacqui and her husband commit suicide. Rumor has it that Martinez is close to the cult founder Philip Blake. I know for fact that Daryl hates that cult and everything that is connected to it so why would he become friends with that dude? Well, apart from the fact that they both work at the same auto repair shop as mechanics. I mean, Daryl spends a lot of his spare time with Martinez as of late. And I’m not in the least jealous! Just curious. Although it does annoy me quite a bit for some reason…

Yeah, I almost forgot to tell you! Last weekend I did manage to go to that Marvel Universe Convention I’d mentioned earlier in one of my previous emails. I invited Maggie along. It would’ve been more fun if she’d have dressed up as Rouge to match my Gambit costume, but I guess cosplaying is not her thing. However, we did enjoy ourselves there. Fun fact: I saw a lot of Hawkeyes there! One of them even reminded me of someone, which is weird. I wanted to get closer but Maggie distracted me with some question and I lost my chance. I wonder who that could have been…

By the way, we are still looking for Sophia’s cat, Fluffy (why do kids tend to give their pets such ridiculous and trite names?).

Daryl is the most anxious about finding it. He goes out every day after work and searches the streets. Carol is one lucky woman to have him. Well, after Ed and everything, she deserves it… We are all hoping to hear good news about Sophia’s custody in the next couple of weeks or so.

One more thing. It appears that Morales’ old apartment is no longer vacant. Maggie told me that we have an addition - three male tenants. They are cousins or something like that. Rented the apartment couple days ago. I think Maggie knows the younger one; they used to attend the same high school. 

Oh my God, look at the time! I’m going to be late for my classes. And I have to see Dale to tell him about Hershel. I need to finally end the reign of cockroaches in my kitchen once and for all.

Yours, slightly entomophobic, Glenn Rhee.


	8. Chapter 8

Dearest Mr. Hawkeye,

I have to confess – I’m a tinsy-winsy drunk right now. Just a wee bit. XD I do remember my oath to never get near alcohol again, but you know what? To hell with that! There are many valid reasons for me to have a drink this time. Like:

  1. Maggie’s not pregnant.
  2. We found Fluffy and the kittens. Yay!
  3. The end of the cockroach reign.
  4. Daryl’s fine.
  5. I’m at Daryl’s place! (I mean how crazy this can even get, right?)



First of all, as I’ve already wrote – Maggie’s not pregnant. You can’t imagine how relieved I am! That may sound like a total douchebag thing to say, but I really can’t help myself. Let’s face it: I’m not ready to become a father. Not now at least. That’s a huge responsibility and with my income I can never be sure if I can afford dinner every day, much less to provide for a family…

Oh, yeah. Maggie and I had a pregnancy scare – guess you’d figured that out from my ramblings above. It was a shock really, when she told me. I had no idea how it might have happened. I mean, technically, I knew how. But we used protection and everything! And you know what else? I’m terrified of babies! They are so small and tiny and loud… I could have never handled one. I’m the youngest child in my family (I have two elder sisters) and have never dealt with babies in my life before.

But don’t you worry. I’m not a complete asshole, I did propose to Maggie when she told me about her possible pregnancy. What else was I supposed to do? Fleeing the country was not an option. Lol.  

I even bought her a ring! Nothing fancy of course – just the cheapest one from the Dolgen brother’s little pawnshop on the corner of the street. I had to borrow most of the money from Dale. Also I know one the owners – Pete, the youngest brother, made a discount for me. Not that I’m cheap, of course! I would’ve bought the biggest rock from Tiffany's if I had the needed resources… Or if it was some kind of apocalypses like in those sci-fi movies and books (no one would care for jewelry – it would probably be lying around useless). An alien invasion, or the riot of robots, or mutation of the lizards that turns them back into the dinosaurs… the resurrection of the vampires, perhaps? (Nah, the latter one is too cliché...) Hmm, I wonder if I could survive in such a hostile reality... I guess I could – I’m fast and wiry. And the time I spent in the pizza delivery business kind of trained my survival instincts.

Probably I’d be able to get by on my own for a while…

Anyway. I’m getting distracted.

In the end, it wasn't the stupid ring or a proposal that mattered to Maggie. She wanted to know how I felt about her, whether I loved her or not. And that was the point where our relationship crumbled. She broke up with me yesterday because I couldn’t answer her question. I mean… The time we’d been dating hardly covers a month! I’m not even sure if it can be filed under the term “dating” at  all… with the whole “on and off” thing. Don’t get me wrong, I do like, respect and admire Maggie and I will never regret being in a relationship with her.

But for some reason it never felt… _right_. I don’t know how to explain it. I should be over the moon that she simply glanced my way because, let’s be real, she is _way_ out of my league. She is smart, beautiful, funny and absolutely great in every possible sense… To some extent, it was a huge pressure on me. I had to live up to her expectations but not having much experience in the relationship field, I feared that I would fail. I've never had a serious one before. I wish I could’ve been a better boyfriend and been able to give her what she wants… what she deserves. I wish I could’ve been more like Daryl… I mean look at him and Carol! They seem absolutely perfect together…

Oh, speaking of the devil, I think I hear something! Brb.

 

* * *

 

 **UPD:** Nope. Everything is okay! He is sleeping like a baby. Seems like the sleeping pills are working. He looks so… I don’t know how to describe it… almost vulnerable in his sleep. It makes me want to protect him. Can you imagine it? Me as Daryl Dixon’s protector?! Lol. I probably have too much booze in my system.

Ooh, look what I just found! A site called The Love Calculator! This might be interesting… Should I try Maggie and me? Let’s see… :P

 

* * *

 

Huh… not such good news for us as a couple: only 17 %. Gives you an interesting perspective on our breakup, doesn’t it? And you know what? Maggie never approved of my friends. She thinks that I allow them to take advantage of me.

IDK. Maybe she is right. Take that incident at the camping trip for instance. Last Saturday, Rick organized an outdoor event for the tenants of our apartment complex. There had been some tension lately and he wanted to make things better. Unfortunately not everybody supported his idea and ultimately even Rick himself couldn’t come along because he was summoned to work that day. As a  result only I, Maggie, Lori, Andrea, Carl, Shane and T could come.

It was… awkward, tbh. I’m kind of starting to see Dale’s point when he says that Shane gives him the creeps. That guy _is_ weird. And he shaved his head all of a sudden! Though, I must admit that he really pulls off this new look! I’d even say that he looks hotter! That is… I would’ve said _that_ if I were a girl! He looks _“manlier”_. Yeah, that’s the word I was going for. Shane has a nicely shaped head. I would’ve looked ridiculous had _I_ shaved my hair off. My head is not shaped as nearly as well as Shane’s… Btw, are you bald? I think I’ve asked you this question once but never got any answer… :(

Oh, yeah. The camping. If it weren’t for the tension and awkwardness I’d say it was almost fun. Mostly thanks to T - that guy is hilarious and really knows a lot of interesting stories! We'd nearly covered half of our route when we heard some strange noise. Turned out it was a baby deer that had somehow got himself perched on the little ledge of the rocky cliff – the one we were coming down from. It looked so helpless and scared that we couldn’t just leave him there! [In hindsight I understand that if bad ideas were an Olympic event, this would’ve taken the gold.] Not sure what exactly happened but the next thing I knew, I was hanging down from the cliff, trying to catch the baby deer… On the bright side – now I know that I’m afraid of heights! :S

I won’t go further into details (because they are kind of embarrassing for me) – all I can say is that we should’ve listened to T when he said that deer were skillful climbers and that it would’ve gotten out without our help (he saw that on Animal Planet. I should start watching it too!)…

After that, Maggie lectured me on the topic of my apparent incapability to say “no” to my friends. Even though the main reason why I volunteered to help the deer was because I wanted to impress _her_!.. And to save the deer of course. She doesn’t like my friendship with Miguel and vatos either.

 

* * *

 

Ha! I am almost a perfect match with Daryl, though – there's 91 % of a chance becoming a successful relationship! Well… Dr. Love has a strange sense of humor! I mean, we are on friendly basis again (as of last week) but are we _that_ close? I’m not so sure. XD Oh, better go check on Daryl again. I’ll be quick.

 

* * *

 

 **UPD:** He is fine. I just tucked in his blanket. It’s such a strange feeling. And even stranger is the fact that I’m writing you this email from Daryl’s personal computer! He doesn’t even use a password - I’m utterly scandalized. And I’ve known his wi-fi password for several weeks now. It’s DixonsCrossbow – it’s so simple that I don’t even feel ashamed to use it from time to time. I mean it’s not like I’m over abusing this opportunity for free internet or anything. And I do have shortage of money at the moment… so…

Oh! I’ve never explained why I’m here in the first place, haven’t I? Well, as you might remember from my previous e-mail, I had a moral dilemma on my hands – whether to oblige my gf and stay silent about the cockroaches or do the right thing and clear the attic. Eventually, I asked for advice from Dale. You know, at the end of the day, I always go to the old man with all my problems because he knows stuff, he’s wise. Dale tried to speak to Hershel – tried to persuade him to get rid of the garbage. But Hershel got stubborn and refused to listen to us. So I had to tell the others. Even Maggie eventually agreed with me on this (probably because she had seen the size of those cockroaches too).

Rick wanted to solve the problem peacefully – he personally talked to Hershel and made a deal with him according to which we would’ve given Hershel a couple of days to move “the most important things” from the attic to a storehouse. Rick even offered to help with the transportation. But then Shane and Daryl entered the picture. With axes. Hershel refused to open the door to the attic himself and didn’t give us the keys. So the axes were the only reasonable solution in Shane’s opinion. Strangely enough, Daryl, who normally keeps away from Shane, supported him in this case. Daryl said that he was sick of the cockroaches in his kitchen and that there might be other disease bearing creatures in the attic – like mice and rats. That pretty much was the only argument Shane needed and actually everybody else too…

Oh, God – you should’ve seen that mess! And the smell! UGH. We had to cover our noses because it was rather unbearable in close contact. Side note: Daryl looks really hot sporting a bandana over his face! Damn. Seriously, what is it with me today?! Oh well, it’s probably the alcohol talking… At least you won’t tell anybody! LOL.

Where was I? Oh, the cockroaches. You’d never guess what we discovered when we were clearing out the room! Fluffy! Yeah, at first we thought that the vague mewing sounds were coming from the outside. But the farther in we went, the louder the sound got. And then we saw her – she was sitting on the top pile of the junk by the western wall. She probably followed Hershel in unnoticed on his last visit to the attic and he accidentally locked her in. But that's not the best part! The thing is that Fluffy had kittens in that attic! The three of them were hiding in the shoe box on the top of said pile. Daryl and Andrea took the rescue mission upon themselves. There was nothing to worry about. Or so we thought.

I’m not sure what exactly happened there – I, Rick, Shane and T were sorting out the garbage bags downstairs (Shane and Rick were mostly bickering than helping, though) when we heard a crashing sounds from upstairs – naturally, we all hurried back to the attic. When we got there we saw Daryl lying unconscious on the floor, with Andrea terrified at his side. Hershel was nowhere to be found so I called the ambulance.

Andrea said that she didn’t even understand what had happened – one moment, she'd been holding the ladder (which Daryl had climbed to retrieve the kittens) and the next thing she knew, the ladder had slipped from her hands and Daryl came crashing down. Thankfully, he gained his consciousness pretty fast and even got mad at us for calling the doctor (he was diagnosed with a mild concussion). Good thing that Carol was around to keep him still or else he would’ve ignored the doctor’s orders altogether.

Btw, the kittens and Fluffy are fine – Rick and Shane took care of that. I guess Andrea felt bad about Daryl’s accident, though no one really blamed her for that, so she offered to take care of the cats. They are at her place right now since Carol left town for the weekend - something about trying to reach an agreement with Ed. Christmas is only a month away and she doesn’t want to celebrate it without Sophia. Her flight to Florida was booked for tonight so she couldn’t miss it or take the pets with her.

 

* * *

 

Hmm…  Daryl has some kind of a fancy email messenger program installed in his laptop. It informs you about the new messages every time you get one. Just shut down a couple of them from the “Horton” crossbows fan forum (?!?). I don’t even want to know… But it’s kind of distracting because the stupid message bubble keeps popping up every 10 minutes! And it makes a rather annoying sound...

Sorry, I need to go look how Daryl is doing. And also throw up. I blame that last glass of beer!

 

* * *

 

Oh, I haven’t yet explained why I’m a bit tipsy, have I? Well, it’s all Hershel’s fault. Like I’d mentioned earlier – it turned out that he had left the building while we were clearing the things out. Maggie couldn’t find him anywhere and, given the state he was in at the time, she assumed that he might have gone to the bar. This wasn’t good news at all because Hershel has a nasty history with alcohol. This old man is just full of surprises, isn’t he? Naturally, I offered my help to find him and bring him home. Maggie couldn’t go because Beth had had a nervous breakdown of her own - something about problems with her boyfriend Jimmy (long-distance relationships rarely work out, if you ask me).

The worst part was that Hershel’s favorite bar was located in a very bad neighborhood. I’ve been there a couple of times on my pizza delivering routine and I must tell you, that those are not the best memories of my work! Luckily for me, Rick offered his help too. Thank god he already knows about Lori’s pregnancy! Or else the trip to the bar in his company would’ve been a real torture for me. I could’ve blurted out accidentally!

Long story short – we did get Hershel home safe and sound but in the process, he somehow convinced me to have couple of drinks with him (I hadn't had anything since breakfast so it went a long way). And we kind of bonded tonight? IDK. He even seemed somewhat upset when I told him that Maggie and I weren’t dating anymore…

Rick got us a cab when he was summoned on duty. Turned out there was some incident involving our new tenants? I’m not sure what it is but according to Rick, it’s something serious. He is gathering a house meeting tomorrow.

Anyway, on my way home I got a call from Carol who was at the airport and was worried about Daryl. She wanted to know if I could keep an eye on him during the night – just in case. So here I am!

Oh, I've entirely omitted telling you about my studies of late, but though you might not imagine it from my emails, my free time is exclusively occupied with school assignments (i.e. when I’m not working or doing other important stuff). I have a big test next week, but who's afraid?

Btw, I'm thinking of going to Michigan next week. You know, what with Thanksgiving and everything. Let’s hope I’ll manage to survive the family gathering.

But right now, all I want is to get some sleep. Which brings me to another important question: where am I supposed to sleep? Should I go to my place or stay here?.. What if something happens and Daryl needs help? I probably should stay here – just to be on the safe side. Then again, the couch in the living room doesn’t look appealing at all and it’s extremely uncomfortable – the cushions are all saggy, uneven and smell weird. I bet Merle used to sleep on it – won’t go anywhere near it. You never know what you may end up getting after. :S I guess I have no other choice but to settle for this armchair I’m sitting on rn.

If Daryl had a larger bed… No. That’s a crazy thought. He’d kill me for even thinking about it. Not to mention – awkward. And I just got our friendship back. Oh, well. Good night!

Yours with love, G.

PS.  Maybe it isn't proper to send love? XD If it isn't, please excuse - I must be way too drunk. Wow, this email is huge! Feel free to mark it as spam. LOL

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my love and gratitude to my lovely BETA doctorkaitlyn - she is the best.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading and supporting this little fic! It really means a lot to me! Thank you for all your reviews and kind words! :3
> 
> I'm so sorry that it's taking me so much time but I assure everyone that this fic will be completed. It's not abandoned in any case! Again, thank you for your patience! I know that I deserve to be punched in the face for my late updates.
> 
> Happy holidays to all my US readers! :)


	9. Chapter 9

Dear Mr. Smith,

Happy Thanksgiving! I sincerely hope your holiday is faring better than mine [although, something tells me that it isn’t]…

I’ve forgotten how condescending and disapproving my family members can be. I’ve been here less than a day and I miss my crappy lonely apartment already. Then again, maybe they are right. What real prospects do I have in Georgia? I’m probably just fooling myself and wasting the best years of my life for nothing. “Chasing some silly illusions” - quoting my dad. And given everything that has happened over the past several days… I’m starting to see his point of view.

For some stupid reason, I’ve began to think of the tenants of our apartment complex as my second family. With some of them, I have closer relationships than I ever had with my parents. Take Dale for example. I’ve just realized that I never actually appreciated the old man as much as I should’ve. Sometimes it seems to me like I’ve learned more from him than from my own dad… I’m going to miss our little chats and the time we spent together repairing his old RV.

This sounds pathetic, I know. It’s not like I’m bashing my parents and family - not at all. They are all good people and, in their own way, they care about me too. Even if they act like they know what’s best for me better than I do.

It’s going to be weird returning to Atlanta and not finding Dale there. And the worst part is that it feels like I’ve let him down somehow. But what was I supposed to do? Rick informed us at the meeting he called on Monday that our new tenants, the Culver cousins Dave and Tony, were arrested for an attempted rape and, as the further police investigation uncovered, they were also the members of some gang of criminals. Randall, the youngest of the Culvers, apparently had not been involved in his cousins’ affairs. And yet... I’m not sure if it’s wise to let him rent an apartment in our building. Of course, I voted in favor of his eviction. I mean, if it was just me, I wouldn’t have given a single crap about it… but I can’t trust someone like that living under the same roof with young children. I mean, I get the creepy vibes from the guy. I noticed the way he stared at Maggie and Beth the other day in the foyer. Maggie said that Randall went to the same high school as she and he had a bit of a “stalkery” reputation back in the day. It was harmless then of course. Then again, I bet Norman Bates also didn’t stir any suspicions while he was a kid!

Dale was upset because I didn’t support his campaign to give Randall a chance and let him stay in our building. Not that my vote would’ve changed much - only T and Andrea were on Dale’s side. But I still feel bad about the whole situation, most of all because the result of the vote pushed Dale to change plans concerning that trip around the country in memory of his late wife Irma (initially he had been planning to start it in April since the winter is not the best season for road trips).

At least I managed to say goodbye to him before I went to Michigan for the holidays. He will be gone by the time I return. He said that he didn’t blame me and that he just needed to spend some time away from Atlanta for awhile but, you know, I felt that he was disappointed in me… I guess I’m an expert at disappointing people around me. Just ask my parents.

I understand how he feels: Betrayed – with the capital “B”. In fact, I can relate to this feeling better than ever at the moment. It’s when you suddenly realize that the person, whom you considered to be a friend, has had an agenda of their own all this time. And you don’t understand what that means and how that happened. You feel confused because everything has changed in one second. It’s like a veil has been lifted from your eyes and you see things around you in an absolutely different light. You’re basically experiencing an emotional rollercoaster and the worst part is that the person who caused all this doesn’t even want to talk to you.

Speaking of which, you know that I and Daryl have been avoiding each other lately? Of course you don’t. How silly of me. :| To be clear – it’s mostly Daryl avoiding me and I’m pretending to be fine with it. We have some problems... I won’t go into any detail because it’s _personal stuff_. He knows that we need to talk to resolve it. And yet he wouldn’t make the first move and I’m… well, I feel intimidated. Maybe it’s only my wild fantasies? What if I’m drastically misinterpreting things? But then again, how can you misinterpret **_that_**? Plus judging by Daryl’s recent behavior, I’m not wrong in my suppositions. Every sign I see proves me right and yet I’m not confronting him. Reason #1 – I’m not sure how I feel about the recent discovery myself. It’s all very twisted and complicated. I feel like a fool.

A selfish fool. Because obviously Daryl has other more important stuff to deal with at the moment, what with Carol being arrested for Ed’s murder. Still can’t believe she did it. The mere notion that Carol, who couldn’t harm a fly on purpose, killed a person, is alien to me. Something like that is never easy to process. Though, Ed deserved his fate. I believe it was self-defence. She was protecting Sophia from that monster.

Damn it! That worthless piece of crap keeps ruining Carol’s life even after his death. I s2g I could’ve killed him myself and never would’ve had any regrets about it. My blood boils simply at the thought of how he used to treat Carol and Sophia.

They say the Florida police department is keeping Carol in custody. At least Daryl is there now. I hope that they will release her on bail. Even if Carol doesn’t have a family that could support her, she has friends. The tenants of our apartment complex are raising money in order to hire a good lawyer for her. Andrea is in charge of that. Apparently she has a good friend in the FBI – agent Michonne (I don’t remember her second name). Perhaps it may benefit Carol’s case somehow. Rick wants to help too but the Georgia police department has no jurisdiction in Florida… 

Besides, he has his own problems going on – his separation with Lori doesn’t seem to be going too well for him. I think his PTSD is returning again. He’s been acting strange ever since Lori decided that she and Carl needed to move out. There was a disturbing incident with Rick and me just the other day. I was coming home late from work. And you know how someone has been stealing the light bulbs in the foyer on the first floor? Well, it was dark when I bumped into Rick on my way to my apartment. Long story short – he almost choked me to death because for some reason, he mistook me for a burglar or maybe even a Taliban member – for awhile, Rick seemed like he was hallucinating! I think he needs to go to a therapist or something. I have to wear a turtleneck now because of all the bruises and my sisters keep making dirty jokes about it. :S

I’m worried about him. If he continues like this, there is a chance that he may end up in some rehab center like his Army friend Morgan Jonson (or was it Jones?). They say a severe case of PTSD was the reason why the guy’s wife divorced him eventually. So, Rick should probably do something about his condition ASAP unless he wants to join The Sunday Dad Club…

I hear my mother calling me to the dinner table. I guess the Rhee clan has finally gathered. Oh, well, I still have a few minutes to think of the things I’m thankful this year. Though, with all the recent events, I’m not even sure anymore.

Anyway. First of all I’m grateful to you. You helped me to pay my school bills and whatever your motivations were – I appreciate it. I’m thankful for my family, no matter how dysfunctional our relationship is at the moment and I’m thankful for my new friends in Atlanta. They’ve become my second family. Some of them even… well, never mind. It’s neither the place nor the time.

Oh, and I’m also thankful to that drunk customer of mine that ordered pizza on my last day of work before the holidays. I don't think I’ve ever received such a huge tip! I wanted to upgrade my crappy old Xbox and it might have come in handy. But now I will give the money to Andrea who is collecting funds to help Carol.

Crap. I hear annoyance in Mom’s voice – it’s a sign for me to go.

Yours, embracing the holiday spirit, Glenn.


	10. Chapter 10

Dear Mr. Smith,

Or should I go back to calling you Mr. Hawkeye like before? I can’t decide anymore since you won't answer any of my emails. I have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours. And at this point, I’m not quite sure if I should give a single crap about it. Why do I even care to begin with? I hate this silence from you and I’ve grown to despise this one-sided relationship of ours. I’m tired of making a fool of myself. But for some reason, I still keep playing along with this nonsense of yours and will most likely continue till one of us finally gives in and quits this stupid game. Good thing it’s not poker, right? :/ I guess I’ll never get an Oscar for my acting skills.

We are some twisted couple aren’t we? 

*Taking deep breaths*

I’m sorry for all the bitching above. I’ve had a rough week and my nerves are a total wreck. It’s the end of the semester and I have tons of studying to do for my upcoming exams. It looks like I will have to quit my part time job at “Stookey’s” pizza place. Bummer. I liked working there. Bob, the owner, is a cool guy and he always tries to give me good orders. If only he hadn’t had that drinking problem, his business would’ve been a success. Bob is an ex-Army surgeon – I’ve heard some rumors about his past but don’t want to get into the details. After all, we all have our own demons to battle, don’t we?

Speaking of ex-military members. It seems like Rick has finally reconciled with the idea of separation. At the very least, he looks much more composed lately. Lori is thinking of moving to Europe for a year and leaving Carl with his father until she settles down there. She was offered a job in Italy. It’s a great opportunity; they say this interior design company is a huge deal in professional circles. And Lori is a really talented designer - that is the chance of a lifetime for her. Then again, I hear she is thinking of terminating her pregnancy and it’s not sitting well with Rick. The walls in this apartment complex are thin and the Grimes family drama is the favorite topic of the local gossips at the moment… :S

UGH. I just got an email from Professor Welles. He informs me that my paper in Freelance Journalism (my major!) tremendously sucks. Of course he didn’t exactly use the word “suck” but the implication is obvious nonetheless. What the hell am I supposed to do now?! The deadline is less than a month away and he advised me to change the subject, because, quoting him, “no one cares about the details of the pizza delivery system and I should find something more _“current”_ if I want to get a good grade”. CRAP!!!

I miss Dale so much right now! It feels so lonely here without him. I could’ve used a cup of hot cocoa. He would make me awesome hot beverages when I had bad days and visited him for a chat…

I keep in touch with the old man on Facebook (yeah, apparently Dale signed up for several popular social networks, including Instagram, when he started his road trip). He is in Washington D.C. at the moment. Posted two photos of himself participating in some kind of pacifist demonstrations in front of the White House: one is pretty recent and the other is from the 60s or something: it appears like Dale was a hippy back in the day! XD

Well, look at that – just thinking of him makes me feel a little better.

Guess I get along with elderly folk better than with people of my parent's generation… Take Dale or Hershel for instance. Hershel and I are practically best buds now. Lol. That little adventure at the bar sort of benefited our relationship. He’s having a therapy session once a week and seems to be faring quite fine. He's putting in an effort for the sake of his daughters.

Speaking of which. I’m proud to say that I’ve managed to maintain my friendship with Maggie despite the fiasco that was our affair.

You know, I’ve come to realize how much she actually means to me. Not in a romantic sense, though (tbh, I could never give her what she truly deserves). But I do cherish our bond: it is something much more than just a flicker of mindless passion. It feels like she is that person who will never betray me. IDK. I’ve never had such kind of kinship even with my own siblings. My sisters are several years older than me and always tend to view me as some irresponsible baby of the family that no one takes seriously. With Maggie, it’s different. Now that we’ve talked about our relationship and are on the same page at last, I can be myself around her without fearing like I'll be judged for anything. I enjoy her company and I genuinely care for her wellbeing.

Which reminds me. For the past couple of days, Maggie has been at her wit’s end because of her little sister. Turns out Beth’s new boyfriend, Ben, is a follower of that disgusting religious cult – “Woodbury Army of Resurrection” (it’s beyond my comprehension how people can take something with such a ridiculous name seriously). And somehow, the douchebag has almost succeeded in brainwashing Beth to become a member of their stupid community. I mean how??? These freaks believe that resurrection is possible through suicide! O_o Moreover, they are convinced that their sacrifice will ultimately revive their deceased loved ones, who will come back to life with them.

I don’t get why the founder of this crazytown is still not in jail. How come the FBI and the other authorities let this creep walk around recruiting people? He is dangerous! Poor Jacqui, her husband [and who knows how many others] are dead because of him.

Maggie is raging and I can understand her. I mean, yesterday Beth suggested that they should commit suicide together in order to revive their mom and brother! She has been dating that boy for what? Less than two weeks? How did he manage to mess with her head in such a short period of time? UGH.

Maggie is determined to do something about it. It really worries me. From what I learned during the time we were dating, if Maggie sets her mind to something, there is no stopping her. And I’ve done a little research of my own – it seems like there is some heavy criminal business going on behind the whole “Raising of Lazarus” façade. A decade ago, the leader of WAR, Philip Blake was known under the alias Brian Heriot in Alabama. He ran a similar religious fanclub back in the day though it was called by a different name. The FBI suspected him of being involved with the local drug cartel. Alas, he had good lawyers and the case crumbled in court.

In relation, Maggie is also mad at Andrea because about a week ago, she saw Andrea coming out of that Blake guy’s car – apparently he was giving her a lift home or something. Maggie thinks that they are dating. I’m not sure, though. I mean, yeah – maybe Andrea does have some strange taste in men *cough* Shane *cough* but I really doubt that she would date a psycho like the Governor (that’s what his followers call him. Some pet name, huh? XD). So, I’m sure that there is a good explanation for this.

Btw, Shane is officially not with us anymore. He hasn’t been living here since the “attic” incident. And this morning, he finally moved out his remaining stuff from his apartment. He even hired a U-Haul truck. Rick says that Shane has quit his job too. I can’t say that I will miss the guy… Though, it’s kind of sad when you think about it. What with his ruined friendship (Rick) and unsuccessful love life (Lori, Andrea). Some of us here are actually relieved not to have him as a neighbor anymore. I hope that when/if _I_ ever decide to leave this place the effect will be different… IMO, people should be upset over things like that. I hope at least someone will miss me if I’m gone.

Changing the subject, I hear they released Carol on bail but she can’t leave the state until the trial is over. I’m proud of Daryl who is still with her there for moral support. He is a loyal friend.

It’s not the same here without them, we… _I_ miss them.

 

* * *

 

Oh, I think I’ve found the possible subject for my paper. I’ve googled this Philip Blake dude again and found an old interview with him. It says here that his main goal with this religious cult thing is to bring his deceased daughter Penny back to life. It surprises me that he had a family once. Interesting. I should get to work on this…

So, this is it for today. Good night. We really need to talk in person and stop this… whatever this is. Perhaps, now is not the time (with everything going on around lately) but you should know that I’m here and I’m waiting.

Yours, aspiring journalist, Glenn

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my love and gratitude to my lovely BETA doctorkaitlyn - she is the best.
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> To those who may be wondering why Glenn has stopped addressing his emails to "Mr. Hawkeye" - there is a clue in Ch. 8. Also it will be further explained in Ch 12. :) For clarification: "Mr. Hawkeye" is "John Smith" (see Ch. 1).


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my love and gratitude to my lovely BETA doctorkaitlyn - she is the best.
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> Sorry that this chapter is so short and may seem really crazy at first sight but don't worry - everything will be explained in the next chapter. Also, there are two hidden riddles in the text. A little hint: capitalization is not random.
> 
> Update: I'm sorry, I haven't updated for so long but I assure those of my readers that haven't given up on this fic that this fic is not dead - I am working on the last two chapters and, hopefully, they should be ready by the end of May. Thank you for being so awesome and patient!

Dear John,

I’m sending this email from the Woodbury Army of Resurrection community that I and Maggie joined a couple of days ago. This is the best thing that has happened to me in my whole life. Don’t laugh at me. I’ve never been so serious. People here are terribly nice and welcoming. And their leader Philip Blake is the greatest man in the history of the mankind. You should have heard him giving a speech at the gathering last evening. It was magnificent, inspiring and glorious. I’m still under a huge impression. I can’t shake off this feeling: I’m buzzing with excitement. There is a valid reason why they call him The Governor.

We were so wrong to ever believe in all the horrible things they’d been spreading in the media about this amazing community. The Governor is trying so hard to bring some light to our dull and shallow existence. The accusations that you may have heard are simply ridiculous and unjust. I’ve never known a person with such selfless and noble intentions. The sole purpose of his life is to make this world better, to bring back the loved ones that people have lost.

Did you know how tragic his past is? Well, he lost his young wife and daughter in a car crash almost fifteen years ago. His daughter was in a coma for almost a year until the doctors declared her brain dead. The Governor is convinced that they were wrong. On the bright side, there is a chance to revive her now and I have an opportunity to take part in this miraculous occasion.

I’ve also changed my mind about Merle Dixon and Martinez. I’ve met them both here. Isn’t that an interesting coincidence? Anyway. They are quite fun and friendly guys, once you get to know them closely. Merle has some hidden talents as it turns out. He baked a cake with pink frosting for dinner on our first day here. It was delicious, btw.

Speaking of food, that reminds me.

Hershel Eats a Lot of Pizzas! Maggie’s concerned about her father’s diet, while she is away from home. Something must be done about it. That’s definitely not healthy. You know what would be better for him? Sandwiches with Olives and Salmon! They taste fantastic. Trust me on this. And they’re good for one’s heart. 

Alas, I must run now. Pardon brievete et paper. Maggie and I are having a private meeting with the Governor in half an hour. I should prepare myself and change into something more appropriate for this honorable occasion. 

Yours, soon to be enlightened, Glenn Rhee.

PS. There is a possibility that we may never see each other again. I’m thinking of quitting college and staying here permanently. I just want to you to know that I’m grateful for having you in my life and want to make sure that there are no hard feelings between us. I sincerely cherish our friendship and hope that you have only good memories of me. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Potential spoilers from seasons 1-4 of TWD and Jean Webster's "Daddy-Long-Legs". Rated for themes and language. All the highs of this story belong to Jean Webster and all the lows are mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own AMC's "The Walking Dead", Jean Webster's "Daddy-Long-Legs" or Marvel's "Avengers".
> 
> Special thanks to my lovely BETAs - doctorkaitlyn - she is the best.

Dear Mr. Hawkeye, 

This is my last email to you, Daryl. The last time I’m addressing you as “Mr. Hawkeye”. Perhaps I’m being overly sentimental.  Perhaps I should’ve talked about this with you in person, but it feels like writing is a more preferable option. I'm not sure if I could’ve gathered the courage to say everything in person. In a way, this gives me some sort of a closure…

Ah, I’m babbling again. I’ll cut to the chase.

After all, we both know that the identity of my “mysterious” benefactor is not such a mystery to me. It hasn’t been for almost a month. And… if I were you, I would uninstall that obnoxious email messenger program. Its interface should be offensive to the aesthetic senses of anyone who has taste. Also, think of a good password to prevent your future hypothetical guests from using your laptop.

To clarify any possible misunderstanding between us: I didn’t snoop through your emails or personal files. If you didn’t realize it already – the moment I sent an email to _you_ or, if you prefer _Mr. John Smith_ , using _your_ laptop, the message bubble appeared on screen, which informed me - and I quote: “You have a new email from _Glenn Rhee_!”

Imagine my surprise. Tbh, for a second there, I thought that I was getting the shakes (even though I didn’t drink _that_ much that night) and I half expected to see little green men running around the room. I couldn’t understand what had happened or how it was possible in the first place. I didn't understand why, or how, you and Mr. Smith, my mysterious benefactor, could be connected. It was so surreal…it didn’t make any reasonable sense!

I had to know. And I couldn’t wake you up of course. Then again, to be completely honest, I probably couldn’t have confronted you in person, even if you had been awake at that moment. But I needed more solid evidence than an email connection. So, I gave a quick look through your apartment… I’m sorry for crossing the line here and I’m not proud of this… but I had to know!

I’m not sure what exactly I was looking for… luckily, it didn’t take me long to find more proof for my theory. There it was - sitting on the lower shelf of your bedroom closet, right on top of your poncho. My old red baseball cap. The one that I’d lost in October. And then all the pieces of this weird metaphorical puzzle started to fall into their places…

Anyway. Now that I've said that, where do we go from here?

I should've started this email by thanking you for saving mine and Maggie’s lives. But I already have, when you came by to visit me with Rick and Agent Michonne a couple of hours ago. Not that we could discuss much in the presence of the third party… Though, I guess you can’t thank someone enough for saving your life, can you? So, yeah… I couldn’t be more grateful to you.

You were our last chance, Daryl. You’ve probably heard this story hundreds of times over the last two days but I want to say it again. If it weren’t for you, Maggie and I would be dead right now. Murdered by those Woodbury cult members and it would’ve been staged as a double suicide…

It was my fault. I shouldn’t have let my vanity cloud my judgments. I should’ve listened to my instincts, which were screaming at me that it was the worst idea ever. But no.

I wanted to get that stupid high mark on my assignment. I wanted to impress my professor and prove to myself and my family that I don’t need their support to make my own career; that I can become a great journalist one day. I thought that this would be nothing more than a fun adventure. So, I didn’t stop Maggie from going on that personal vendetta against that creepy cult after they almost recruited Beth. I encouraged her investigations and took an active part in this fiasco. I don’t even want to think about what might have happened… In fact, I’m not sure if I can ever look Maggie in the eyes again. Or Hershel. I wasn’t able to protect his daughter from that psycho, that Governor guy. Thank god they didn’t... That maniac assaulted Maggie and threatened to rape her! My blood boils at the thought…

Like I said, we only wanted to gather some information for my article about this cult. We pretended to be interested in their brainwashing BS and joined their community (thanks to Beth “friend’s” recommendation – the one that attempted to recruit her). We didn’t plan on staying there more than a day. But how were we supposed to know that Merle was among the members of this cult? And that he was one of the trusted henchmen of this Governor? I mean, even you didn’t know and you’re his only family!

Either way, if Merle hadn't ratted us out, everything might have gone smoothly.

Turns out, our arrival to the community couldn’t have happened at a worst possible moment. The Governor already suspected that someone was leaking information about the cult’s shady affairs to the cops and when Merle exposed us as fake followers, they automatically assumed that we were sent there to spy on them.

[Damn, it’s taking me ages to type this email with my left hand only, what with my right arm being in a cast.]

You know, they told Maggie that they'd chop both my hands off if she didn’t tell them everything she knew about the mole. They “interrogated” us in separate rooms, so I don’t know all the details but from what I learned while we were waiting to be executed… I have a feeling that my bruises and other physical injuries from the brutal beatings will heal much faster than the emotional trauma Maggie suffered because of those monsters.

Looking back, we didn’t have much of a chance at surviving, did we? Once they realized that we didn’t have anything to do with the cops, it was obvious that they could neither let us go nor keep us there. We were the unwanted witnesses that had to be silenced and there was only one way to do it.

As I understand, they intended to drug us, put us in a car and push said car off a bridge or something. By threatening Beth and Hershel’s safety, they got Maggie to write a suicide note addressed to Hershel and they made her post a similar one on her Facebook page so that it would look believable.

I was a less complicated obstacle in this respect – Merle knew that my family was far away and that I’m not on the best terms with any of my relatives to begin with. With Dale being off on his trip and Maggie’s suicide note, no one would’ve suspected anything. Well, except you, perhaps…

Luckily for me, Merle didn’t know about our correspondence. I’d managed to convince them that I had to send a farewell message to a close friend, a friend who would worry and start asking questions otherwise; not to mention that I deserved to be granted one last wish before my execution,  though the part about having a suspicious friend was most likely the clincher that persuaded them.

Thank god Martinez (who was appointed to supervise me writing that email) didn’t notice my crappy cipher hidden in the message. We would’ve totally been screwed if he had.

Tbh, I’m not sure if I actually had faith that it would work or, more importantly, if you would’ve been able to help us anyways, what with you being off in Florida with Carol and Sophia at that moment (btw, I’m happy to know that Carol’s case is going well and that it seems like they both will return home soon)… I guess I hoped that you would contact Rick, and the local police would handle everything else. Which you did. But what I didn’t expect is that you’d also call Merle and somehow make him help us to get out of that mess.

I mean, Merle was the one who sold us out in the first place, who ~~beat~~ interrogated me and ultimately was indirectly responsible for Maggie’s suffering. He was the last person I would’ve expected to save us. Turns out I underestimated the strength of your brotherly bond.

Rick told me that we owe Merle for delaying our execution until the police arrived. He betrayed his boss for you. And now Merle is the key witness against this Philip Blake dude and his cult. With Professor Mammet’s evidence it should be enough to put that creep away for a lifetime in prison. Btw, another surprise – who would’ve guessed that our college professor was doing scientific research for the cult? They were trying to work out the process of resurrection or something? Who would’ve guessed that Milton Mammet was also Agent Michonne’s mole and was the one leaking information to the FBI all this time? And if I understood Rick’s explanations correctly today, Andrea (as in: _our_ Andrea) was somehow involved with this case too? That’s why Maggie had seen her with the Governor.  Since Andrea was friends with Agent Michonne, she tried to help her to catch the bastard somehow? My mind is blown from all this information.

I have no idea why I’m writing you this since you probably know it all, since you were here at the hospital with Rick and Agent Michonne, when they questioned me… That FBI lady looked kind of pissed, didn’t she? Idk if it’s the morphine talking but she looked very intimidating to me. It seems like our interference with the Woodbury Army of Resurrection (WAR) almost disrupted their operation. Glad that everything ended well in the end…

I feel like the drugs they gave me are really starting to kick in. The pain in my arm is bothering me less, so I can type faster. Nurse Karen just gave me another warning about using my laptop and overworking myself. She threatened to call Dr. Subramanian (my attending) and tell him all about me disregarding his direct prescriptions about resting. She’s probably right and I do feel like my whole body has turned into one massive bruise. But I do need to write this now. I'm not sure if I will have the time, opportunity or, let’s be honest, the _courage,_ to do it later.

I had some time to think in that Woodbury cellar, where Merle beat the shit out of me. I realized that life is short and I could die at any moment. I promised to myself that if I get out of there alive, I’d use every second and make it worthwhile. I’m tired of pretending and lying to myself.

I care about you, Daryl. And not just like a friend. I’m sexually attracted to you and I’m not going to have a gay panic attack about this. That’s how things are. I’ve had this crush on you for several months now. And I know that you feel the same about me too. I’m not a fool, I’ve noticed the way you look at me sometimes and I’ve been suspecting that something was going on for quite a while.

Of course, I had no idea that you were my Mr. Hawkeye until the night I spent at your place. But that revelation, combined with my old baseball cap in your closet, couldn’t have been more obvious indicators that it wasn’t just my wild imagination.

I'm not sure why I waited so long to let you know this. I should’ve talked to you the next morning after my discovery, but I was afraid that it was all just a bizarre dream. That you’d freak out or laugh at me (or punch me in the face) if I made the first move. So, I waited. I mean, I never was good at pretending and playing such games, so you probably had figured out from my behavior that I knew. At the least, I tried to drop some clues in my succeeding emails.

The last couples of emails I sent you were the hardest part, tbh. I couldn’t address you as “Daryl”, since I didn’t want to come forward first; but I couldn’t keep addressing to you as “Mr. Hawkeye” either. In my mind, “Mr. Hawkeye” was an abstract person to whom I could tell all my worries and my secrets. Someone whom I never expected to meet irl but who cared and never judged… It all changed once I found out the truth. So, I went by that crappy name your lawyer gave me.

Perhaps you figured all of this out yourself, though? I couldn’t understand why you didn’t seem to be picking up on my not so discreet hints. There was a moment there a few weeks ago when I wanted to confront you and come clean. But the timing didn’t seem right – what with Carol’s situation and everything…

Yet, I’m tired of pretending. I realized today when you came by with Rick and agent Michonne that you’re not going to make the first move. So, I’m making one myself.

You couldn’t even look me in the eyes. Is that because of Merle and what he did to me at the community? It’s not your fault, Daryl. You can’t choose your family. I’m not mad at him for beating me up or pushing me down the stairs back in November. We both know that it was him, don’t we? I kept my mouth shut because he was your brother and I didn’t want to be the reason for him going to jail again. I know that you kicked him out of your apartment mostly because of that incident. I overheard you fighting that evening… and then later, when you showed up at my place with painkillers and informed me that Merle had moved out – it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

Thus, I’m not angry at Merle for what he did to _me_. I’m angry at him on _Maggie’s_ behalf. What happened to her matters more to me than what happened to me. I’m not sure if I can ever forgive not just Merle, but myself.

Rick said today that because of Merle’s cooperation with the police and FBI, he will probably be released on probation and that he’ll move in with you again.

I know that at the end of the day, I owe my life to him but I can’t live in the same building as your brother. I can’t go back to the way things were – acting as if you and I are nothing more than neighbors, or casual friends at best. I don’t want to be just friends with you; I want something more. I’m sick of wasting time pursuing something that I can never get.

My folks are right, and for once I’m going to listen to them. They’re discharging me tomorrow and my older sister is coming to pick me up.

I talked to my father on the phone earlier today and we made a deal. Dad will cover all the hospital bills and will take care of all my student loans (which means I’ll be able to return your money) on the condition that I’ll quit college and return to Michigan. They already got me a job as an intern at my uncle’s law firm and next year they want me to apply to law school.  

I hate law… and this proposition embodies everything I despised and ultimately ran away from a couple of years ago. But maybe I was wrong? Maybe it’s time to finally grow up and make responsible adult decisions? Not to mention that nothing is holding me here anymore…

It’s only four days until Christmas and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel the holiday spirit. I don’t have bright cheery hopes of some wonderful miracle waiting for me just around the corner.

I’m tired of chasing pipe dreams. And it seems like my journalistic career is one of them. My article about the Woodbury cult, figuratively speaking, will be my swan song in this respect. Funnily enough, I already have a couple of offers from local newspapers – a guy named Abraham Ford, the chief editor of “On a Mission,” is the most persistent – he called me twice today. Looks like I’m going to sell my story to him.

Anyway. What I’m trying to say is that I’m moving back to Michigan. Permanently. I’m giving up my apartment. My sister will collect my stuff (not sure if I’m able to climb up all the stairs in my current state) and then we’ll catch our flight.

On the bright side, I’ll be able to give you back all your money. I know that we had a deal and everything… but that was before I learned your identity. Tbh, I’m not even sure where you got that money. Did you sell your old chopper for this? Because the timing suspiciously coincides… FYI, I loved that bike. I hope you can get it back… Or maybe buy a new one. Motorcycles kind of suit your personality.

Well… It looks like I’ve got carried away – this email is inappropriately huge, isn’t it? But I’m too tired to edit it now. What I’m trying to say is that I want to try it out with you… This… Whatever it is that we’re having. But it doesn’t look like you’re interested anymore. Or maybe you care too much about other people’s opinions (hint: Merle)? Either way, you know my number and you know where to find me, if you want to talk.

As for now, I wish you a merry Christmas (if we won’t see each other again). Send my love to Carol and Sophia, as it looks like I won’t be here when they get back. In case you never give me that call, and in case this _is_ our last (one-sided) “conversation”, I want you to know that there are no hard feelings between us. I wish you all the happiness in this world, Daryl. You deserve it. I’m glad that I had this little adventure in my life and I’m glad to have met you.

Yours, much grateful, Glenn.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all very much for reading and supporting this little fic! It really means a lot to me! Thank you for all your reviews and kind words! :3 I would've never finished this story without you guys.
> 
> That being said, I'm terribly sorry that it took me so long to update! I appreciate your patience greatly! I probably don't deserve such wonderful readers. 3 Also, happy holiday weekend to everyone living in the US! :)
> 
> It took me almost two years to write but I'm now almost done – this is the penultimate chapter (the last one is being edited by my lovely beta doctorkaitlyn at this very moment). The finale chapter will be published next week.
> 
> NB: "WAR" is an abbreviation of the cult's name: the Woodbury Army of Resurrection. I mentioned it in previous chapters but most probably not everyone remembers those chapters since it's been almost half a year since my last update. This name of the cult would be both a nod to the general zombie theme + the reference to the s3-4 war between the Prison and Woodbury. :) Also, it's a little nod to In the Flesh (BBC3) – there is a group of zombie extremists there who call themselves the Undead Liberation Army.
> 
> There are more nods to previous chapters such as like Milton Mammet being Glenn's college professor (the very first email), someone stealing Glenn's baseball cap (Ch. 3), someone pushing Glenn down the stairs (Ch. 5), Glenn addressing to Mr. Hawkeye as "John Smith) (Ch. 1) is also a reference to the Daddy-Long-Legs by Jean Webster - the book upon which this fic is based.
> 
> Thank you again for reading! -)


	13. Chapter 13

[ ](http://nangke.tumblr.com/post/42493579538/glenn-cosplaying-as-gambit-daryl-as-hawkeye-from)

fan art by [**Nangke**](http://nangke.tumblr.com/) ( **[deviantart](http://nangke.deviantart.com/))**

Dearest Mr. Hawkeye,

[To be honest, I really don’t understand why you still love that silly little nickname so much and why you keep insisting that you be called that.]

Anyways. Merry Christmas, Daryl!

Wow, this feels really weird sending a message to your fake email address again. It’s hard to believe that almost two years have passed since I last sent one. Two years since we got together, I mean. Hmm… it feels like an entire lifetime has passed since then.

I’m in a nostalgic mood all of a sudden. Or maybe I just had too many glasses of eggnog this evening. And you know what that beverage does to me. ;) See – I’m using a winking emoticon! Yep, eggnog.

Sorry I hung up on you earlier. I get that it’s not your fault that they canceled all the flights from Arizona due to the weather. Seriously, though – couldn’t Merle have gotten a job somewhere closer? Like in Alabama or Missouri or something? In other words, a place from which you could get back home simply by driving a car? I mean, even Michigan is closer to Georgia!

Ugh. I’m just so pissed at the fact that we won’t spend this Christmas together. :( After all, this is _our_ holiday, remember? I planned a little celebration just for the two of us, although Mom keeps bugging me about us always ignoring their invitations for traditional Rhee family gatherings. But no way – they already get to ruin Thanksgivings for us. They will have this only over my dead body.

By the way, I hope everything went well with helping Merle settle into a new place. Is his apartment as small and crappy as ours? Does it have cockroaches? Or rats? I hope it has both! He deserves that for robbing me of your delightful company during this wonderful holiday.

Oh, wow. “ _Delightful_ ”. It’s definitely the eggnog talking. I bet that you feel extremely bummed about not being here right now, don't you? I’d be so willing to put on that Gambit costume for you. ;) But my Hawkeye isn’t here, so our little reenactment of an Avengers and X-Men crossover is not going to happen (tonight, at least).

Huh, still can’t believe that I didn’t recognize you at that Marvel Universe Convention two years ago… Though, to be fair, I did have a fleeting notion that one extremely handsome Hawkeye there looked strangely familiar. Blame Maggie – she distracted me.

And while we’re at it – Maggie wanted me to let you know that when you get back home, she’s going to personally hunt you down and make you suffer badly for introducing Hershel to the pickled pig’s feet. Those disgusting things became a secret ingredient in the old man’s sauce at our recent Spaghetti Tuesday. I was among the unfortunate guests at that dinner, and fyi – although I won’t get in the way of her wrath – that was the grossest meal I’ve ever tasted!

Also, Beth asked me if you wouldn't mind if she invited Zach to our next hunting trip. And since we both like and approve of Zach as her boyfriend, I said that you’d be totally fine with it. Though, now that I think about it, there’s a chance that the boy might start having second thoughts after that trip. Let’s be real, Beth can be very intense and intimidating when the hunting mood hits her. It’s kind of ironic given that she looks so tiny and fragile… like a real-life Disney princess. A scary Disney princess with a gun. XD It’s unbelievable that you got her into hunting! I mean, I hate to get out of the city and would never have gone with you guys if it wasn’t for the perks, like making out under the stars, having only the campfire and your body heat warming me at night… Hmm… I have to get another glass of eggnog!

Wait. Did I tell you that Hershel broke his leg yesterday? Poor guy slipped and fell on the black ice patch around the corner from our apartment building. Thankfully, it's nothing serious, he’s fine but he will have to wear a cast for some time till his injury heals.

Oh, look at that! Dale just sent me a message on Facebook (you really should sign up too). He’s wishing us a merry Xmas. He says he enjoys the weather in Iowa this time of year. He and Irma (kind of creepy that his new wife has the same name as his late wife, isn’t it?) are inviting us to visit them during the Easter holidays. It’s too far and, if I recall correctly, we already have some other plans for Easter… I said that we’d think about it.

In other news that's happened while you were away in Arizona, Lori brought Judith for the holidays! Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay herself – she has some big work project in Paris. But Carl and Rick are super happy to have Judith around. She’s such an adorable kid! You won’t recognize her when you see her. She’s starting to speak and it’s the cutest mix of English and French! It’s hard to understand but nevertheless, it's cute. :) Lori wanted to take Carl with her to Europe but he already agreed to go on a holiday skiing trip in Colorado with Carol, Sophia, Tyreese, Sasha and Maggie. And Lori knows that it’s better to not get in the way of a teenage boy’s first love. Guess you feel silly now for not believing me when I told you that Carl had a crush on Sophia? :)

Speaking of which, do you sense something brewing between Tyreese and Carol as well? Or is it just my wild imagination? Looking back, it’s funny, how childish I was for thinking that I’d dislike anyone who moved into T-Dog’s apartment after he moved out.Btw, Hershel received a card from him a couple of days ago. It was mailed from Hawaii. Apparently, T-Dog is doing well; he writes that he started a little business there – co-running a little snack place and if any of us would happen to be there, we’re more than welcome to drop by. I’m very happy for him.

But I got sidetracked. My point is - I’m glad that Sasha moved into T’s old place. We have two more friends instead of one. Ty is a great guy and, if I’m right in my suspicions, he and Carol will make a nice couple. I have a feeling that Sasha is shipping Carol with her brother too – the skiing trip was her idea. Mental note: ask Maggie about this - after all, she’s BFF's with Sasha.

Hey, I’m in a romantic mood now… Ooh! You know who else would make a cute couple? Rick and Michonne! I mean, what’s going on between those two? Ever since that Woodbury business, they’re hanging out together all the time – sometimes I even have a feeling that Michonne is one of our tenants here too. (Now there’s a weird thought! Considering that she owns a gorgeous apartment in the centre of the city.) Besides, she gets along with Carl so well! Didn’t you say that she had a kid who would’ve been just about Carl’s age right now? Alas, the cancer… no wonder she bonded with Carl right away…

So, you should talk to Rick about this. Encourage him! He’ll listen to you; you’re his best bro after all. I mean, Rick’s been single for how long now? I think he hasn't seriously dated anyone since Andrea. To tell the truth, I really thought that their relationship would work out. They had such amazing chemistry. Damn, it’s all Amy’s fault. If she didn’t get Andrea that job in L.A. they’d still be together. Then again, I guess everything is for the best at the end of the day… By the way, did you know that Amy got a part in some indie straight-to-DVD horror movie? Something about the living dead (ghosts, vampires or mummies… not sure). It’s going to be available for purchase in March. I know you’re not a fan of the genre but I’m going to order a copy for us when it comes out.

Ugh, I just got a message from Abraham. He wants me and Tara to work on an article about “Terminus”. It’s yet another rapidly growing cult in our city. If we’re lucky, we may get an interview with the cult leader, a mysterious lady named Mary (no one knows her surname). Tbh, neither me nor Tara are comfortable with the subject, not after the Woodbury Army of Resurrection (if you remember Tara’s sister was one of its followers too)…

I can't believe it's been two years since I started working with Ford (thanks to that WAR article of mine). You above all people know that I can’t let him down, he’s more than just my boss now, he’s a good friend. I'll always be thankful he was the only editor in the city who believed in me and gave me a chance, even before I had my diploma. Like I said to you the other day, if it weren't for him, I’d probably still be working as a pizza delivery boy...

Speaking of Tara, she says thatAlisha can get us into that fancy new night club “The Quarry” for the New Year’s Eve party. I know how much you hate clubbing and I’m not a fan either, not to mention that we don’t like Alisha… but Tara is my friend and also (if the rumors are true) Lee Dewyze will be performing there that night. So, let’s consider it, okay?

Oh, almost forgot the most important part: there are three Xmas presents with your name on them here. The first one is from me – it’s season tickets for the Atlanta Hawks. The second is a new laptop for both of us from my folks (was delivered by FedEx this morning); in fact, I’m typing you this email from it at this moment to test it out. Just don’t swing it at the wall, like you did with one of your previous ones. I mean, it’s not like you’ll get another message from me about sex with Maggie (like it was that time). Lol.

And your third gift is also from me. It’s a surprise – you’ll find it out when you return. ;)

Wait, I’ve just got a text from you. You rented a car from Arizona! You’ll be here in an hour! Have to run, need to get that third present of yours ready. ;))

Yours forever and always, Glenn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I’m terribly sorry for the delay – had a bit of a technical problem with my computer and in the result it took longer to edit the last chapter.
> 
> After almost two years I’ve finally managed to complete this little fic. And it wouldn’t have been possible without all of you wonderful people who supported this story. Thank you all very much for reading, subscribing and reviewing this fic! It means a world to me. When I first started this I never thought that I’ll be able to get it till the end and, frankly speaking, I wouldn’t have without all of you.
> 
> Special thanks to: my amazing beta [**doctorkatlyn**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn) ([ **winchester-cheekbones**](http://winchester-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) on tumblr), who is the sweetest human being and the best beta one could ever wish for (also her Darlenn fanfics are absolutely great, check them out if you still haven’t); [**nangke**](http://nangke.tumblr.com/) for the gorgeous fan art dedicated to this fic; [**undeadstoryteller**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/undeadstoryteller) for advice and helpful edits; [**bgn**](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/818725/bgn) and [**Mad Arid**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Arid/pseuds/Mad_Arid) \- whose Darlenn AU stories are the reasons I started writing in the first place,
> 
> Also, shout out to the **tumblr anon** who messaged me last year. 
> 
> And again, all my love and appreciation to all of you, my wonderful readers! Hope, the last chapter isn’t a disappointment. :)
> 
> I’m going to take a break from TWD for a while and try to write a fic for another fandom but hopefully I and **doctorkaitlyn** will get back to The Wonderful Walkers of Oz.


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